


bandages

by AceyEnn



Series: Femslash February 2k18 [1]
Category: Steven Universe - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 07:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceyEnn/pseuds/AceyEnn
Summary: Pearl helps Amethyst through a rough patch.(MAJOR warning for self-harm.)





	bandages

**Author's Note:**

> happy femslash february
> 
> this is probably not very good but shrug emoji
> 
> i might write a more in-depth version someday, or even something else set in this general 'verse (hell, maybe i'll write something in this 'verse for ff!), but no promises k?

****

She comes into the living room sobbing and bleeding heavily from her thighs.

 

“I’m sorry, Pearl, I--”

 

“Let’s go into the bathroom and talk about this there,” you insist. You’re not mad at Amethyst--maybe a bit disappointed, but she’d been clean three months, and...well. That’s still something to be proud of, at least.

 

(You’d be lying if you said you were any better.)

 

You lead her into the bathroom and pull out the antiseptic, carefully applying it to Amethyst’s wounds; she winces at the sting. None of them seem quite deep enough to require a trip to the hospital, which is a relief, but there’s a  _ lot _ of them, littering her thighs, criss-crossing over old scars.

 

“Did something happen?” you ask, reaching for the bandages. “You’d been doing incredibly well…”

 

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’ve just been feeling like shit.”

 

You nod. You understand entirely too well.

 

You’re not  _ quite _ the same as Amethyst, in the sense that you’ve never had cuts littering your thighs and torso. No,  _ your _ scars are almost entirely from burns, from cigarettes stubbed out on your arms. Different method. Different reasons. Same basic problem.

 

(Sometimes you barely even notice you’re doing it. Sometimes it hurts like hell. You’re not sure which is worse.)

 

As you bandage her cuts, you can’t help but notice her staring at your arms. The most recent burns...they’re scabbing over but they’re still  _ there _ , and her concern is palpable. You don’t blame her.

 

“I’m sorry,” you say, although you suppose now might not actually be the best time to apologize.

 

She says nothing. “Are you doing any better now?” you ask.

 

She shakes her head, her long lilac hair falling in front of her face. “I’m a dumbass for making you worry like this.”

 

“Does that make  _ me _ a ‘dumbass’ for making  _ you _ worry?”

 

“Of course not! I’m worried because I love you and I  _ care _ about you!”

 

“And that’s exactly why  _ I’m _ worried.”

 

She sniffles, but doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. 

 

She just stands up and pulls you into a hug.


End file.
